


If I fall asleep, who's going to stop me from falling?

by orphan_account



Category: We Know the Devil (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Trans Character, Closeted Character, Drabble, Gen, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Neptune, Sexuality Crisis, Teen Angst, Trans Female Character, Underage Drinking, these kids are their own warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I'll take some shots and write a book, or something like that, something that destroys them in the best way possible. Kill them with words and all."





	If I fall asleep, who's going to stop me from falling?

I was the one who took it out, the bottle of the bitter, distasteful liquid. It felt good to consume it, though. Let it take over you and all, you know? Let it bring you closer to your truths, and who you really are. Who you hide from yourself.

_Filthy._

"Aha," Jupiter tells me. "You are not sober."  
  
I mean, she isn't wrong. Jupiter isn't looking too great herself, and as nasty as it sounds, I'm a little proud. She's... too good for her own good. People take advantage of her for it. It sucks, honestly. Me, I am who I am. So, she points out I'm drunk, I will nod and flat out admit it.

End of story. 

"Neither are YOU, miss," I retort, smugly grinning at her. "It's written all over your smug lazy face, I can TELL haha."

Jupiter's face was completely pink. So this is peer pressure, huh? She too was high as an eagle. 

I moan, suddenly knocked off my guard. I didn't realize just how high I really was... truth be told, I felt as if I was about to puke right there and then, but I just chose not to bring it up. Don't want to be that downer. The night dragged on, and her face got pinker and pinker. I don't remember much of last night, honestly. I know some crazy things happened. I know the others fell farther into their filth, closer to the devil than ever.

The devil likes company.

Perhaps alcohol wasn't made from our subconscious but the devil urged us to do it. 

We were all filthy, and my entire body was aching the next morning. I was exhausted and sweating.

This is a lie, of course. I do that sometimes, lying to myself. Truth be told, I don't want to remember what happened last night. I don't know how to explain my feelings, and that's probably what I desperately tried to do - and failed at of course - last night. I remembered the closet. I wanted to forget the closet, and I wanted to go home.   
This trip was fun and all, but it wasn't. I hated it, really.

Maybe I'll be a writer when I'm older, yeah. That would be my ideal career path, I'm sure. Maybe then I could organize my thoughts into something that made sense. Tell people stories that will push them off the edge. A world where they cannot feel their own lives, but experience the loneliness of others around them, that they never noticed before. All because they were too absorbed in being good. I'll take some shots then write a book - kill them with words and all.


End file.
